


I'd rather you just kill me

by Sorrowchan



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: F/M, thoughts/mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorrowchan/pseuds/Sorrowchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Sorrow asked Joy to kill him, and the time she did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd rather you just kill me

                    1.

 

The man she meets is dirty, thin, and white as the snow The Joy saw on the way in. The only feature that distinguishes him from a corpse are his eyes, which look tired and frightened as she tries to meet them. He’s the least impressive out of everyone she’s interviewed, but she knows he’s not like the other men. What makes him useful isn’t on the outside.

“And so, I believe you would be a very useful asset to our unit,” she says in conclusion, keeping up her upbeat attitude despite how little it seemed to affect her companion, “if you were to accept my offer, of course.”

He stares at her in silence, either thinking or waiting for her to continue. It takes awhile but eventually he answers, “my choices are to be a prisoner here, or fight in this war. What difference does it make?”

Her expression falters. “I think that should be obvious. I’m offering you your freedom and an opportunity to make a difference in the world - to fight for your country. Doesn’t that interest you at all?”

“I’m not a soldier. I can’t fight,” he says flatly, “I would rather have you shoot than stay here or help kill anyone.”

Despite how hard she works to keep up her very official-but-still-approachable front, that leaves her gaping. Not having an interest in living the life of a soldier was one thing, but to compare it to imprisonment? That was just ridiculous - not to mention offensive as it sinks in. She’d hired people more rude than that into her unit though, and after a minute she gathers herself and tries again.

“I realize it may sound unappealing now, but you will think about it, won’t you?”

He shakes his head and repeats, “I’m sure you have some sort of weapon on you now, right? Go ahead. Say I tried to attack you, no one will care.”

“ _I’ll care_ ,” she says firmly, and was pleased to see his eyes widen in surprise, “I know you don’t think you matter now, but you do. No one else on this world has the abilities and experience you have and no one else could help us like you could. I promise I can prove this to you.”

Right away it’s clear that she’s made an impact on him, even though he still tries to argue weakly, “w - well, what if you’re wrong? Or you can’t prove it?”

“There isn’t any question about it.”

Joy stands after that and holds out her hand to him. He hesitates for a moment before taking it and letting her help him up.

  
  


                    2.

 

“Sorrow -?”

Joy pauses and looks over her shoulder to find her medium has suddenly doubled over as though in pain, his hands clutching his head. Her mind races as she runs back to him - has a stray bullet hit him? Shrapnel? Hell, maybe he’s stepped on something? When she reaches his side it sounds like he’s just muttering nonsense, but she realizes he’s switched from English to his own tongue, so she does as well. “Sorrow, are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and says weakly, “th - there’s too many -!”

“Too many of what? Sorrow it’s just us here,” she says.

“No - no, no no, they’re everywhere -” he stammers, and she sees he’s shaking.

It finally hits her that he’s probably referring to things he can see that she can’t. Joy feels like an idiot for forgetting. She puts a hand on his shoulder and uses her other to try to move one of his hands, saying, “look at me - please, I need you to calm down. We can’t stay here.”

He doesn’t move, but at least responds, “I can’t - they’re all crying, Joy, th - they’re all hurt and crying.”

She lets out a frustrated sigh, and is thankful a second later that he’s not paying enough attention to her to have heard it. “Can you just - hold onto me or something? I can help you get out of here, alright?”

“I - I’m sorry - I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mutters, repeating the words a few more times before making a choked sound that could have been a sob and begging, “fuck - I can’t do this! I can’t! Joy - Joy shoot me please - p - please, make them stop, make them be quiet - kill me _please_.”

She wants to slap Sorrow and yell at him to get a grip, but she can’t imagine how much worse that will make the situation. Instead she forces herself to take a steadying breath and says as calmly as she can, “no one’s shooting you, and you’re going to be alright, you hear me?” He probably doesn’t, but it’s worth trying. “Just hang on, Sorrow.”

While he still babbles about the spirits and begs for death she pulls one of his arms over her shoulders and drags him upright with ease. Although he doesn’t really try to walk, he clings tightly to her and Joy thinks she can feel him nodding as she continues giving him reassurances.

  
  


                    3.

 

One stormy night Joy goes out for a smoke and finds Sorrow already outside. He’s huddled up against the wall where it’s dry, and she’s glad to see him until her eyes fall on the distinctly empty bottle in his hand. She gives him a stern look when he glances up at her and he hangs his head again.

“Sorrow, we’ve talked about this,” she says.

“ ‘M sorry,” he mumbles, pulling his legs closer to his chest.

It looks like she’s long too late to stop him so she sighs and takes up a spot against the wall. “Alright, love, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.”

“What’s _especially_ wrong?”

He shakes his head and says, “I’m useless and stupid and do everything wrong and my whole life is always going to be fucking miserable.”

She tries to say, “that isn’t true, dear -”

“Yes it is, don’t lie to make me feel better,” he insists, “everyone else is mad at me because i keep messing up. I tried to fix it and I tried to leave it alone and both of those made everything worse. You all hate me.”

“None of us hate you. You know how stubborn Fury can be and if Fear’s being too much of a jerk just tell him to lay off, he’s getting a lot better at taking hints. And you know End and Pain don’t hate you, and most _certainly_ like you, very much,” she says, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“But you don’t like me more than them.”

It isn’t a matter of more or less, it’s not a competition, Joy wants to say, but he isn’t in a place where he can be reasoned with. She replies instead, “I love you, Sorrow, of course I like you most.”

She supposes he doesn’t have anything to counter with because he rests his head on his knee with a quiet sigh. This is why they’ve had to about this, it doesn’t do him any good to feed into whatever in his head is telling him these things and it doesn’t help her heart to hear him repeat them.

“You should kill me,” he says quietly after a while, “I would be better off dead.”

“Don’t say that!” Joy snaps before she can stop herself, then lowers her volume and continues, “you would never be better off dead, never ever, and I wouldn’t - I _will_ never hurt you like that. I don’t care how much you want to beg and plead with me. Look at me, Sorrow.” She pulls his chin up with one hand so that he’s facing her, even though his eyes don’t seem to be able to focus on anything. “All of us care about you, even if it may not seem like it sometimes. If something were to happen like you Fury would care no matter how angry he seemed over some stupid little thing and Fear wouldn’t know what to do with himself - _I_ wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Don’t let yourself believe that you’re worth less than that.”

Either the rain has started blowing on them or he’s crying because his cheeks are wet by the time she finishes. Then she realizes both are probably right, as she’s starting to get wet too.

“Come on, why don’t we go inside. I’ll get you something to eat and we can head off to bed early, alright?” She asks, and he nods in agreement.

  
  


                    4.

 

They’re supposed to be better than this. She’s supposed to be better than this. To let herself get captured is one thing, but her and one of her men is unacceptable.

And of course, out of all of them to be with her, it has to be him.

She’s hardly seen him since they were taken in and now all of a sudden they’ve been left alone together. It’s obvious why of course, so they can see how poorly the other is fairing. At first she’s relieved to see that she’s received the worst of it, but as their conversation continues her heart sinks and her stomach twists in a never ending knot.

“Joy, this is what the microchips are for, right?” Sorrow says again, “if you don’t want to I completely understand, but as long as I’m here they can use me against you.”

“Absolutely not!” she snaps, “the others just - they just need more time! That’s all!”

He grits his teeth, and when he clutches his arm she sees to her dismay that it's in pain, not anger. “We’ve _given_ them time. We’ve given them more time than it should have taken to get into this place. Something’s gone wrong and they’re not going to come. It had to happen eventually.”

Joy folds her arms and gives him a look, replying, “ ‘eventually’? What, were you waiting for this to happen? Don’t tell me after all these years you have that little faith in them.”

“Don’t change the subject. If you don’t tell me how to detonate this bomb I’ll figure it out myself, even if it means cutting my arm off just to get to it.”

Sorrow wouldn’t exaggerate about that, not in a situation like this, and the thought makes her heart skip several beats. “You - you can’t, it wouldn’t work,” she says quickly, “the only way for it to go off is for your heart to stop, alright? And they won’t let you kill yourself, so it’s pointless. We’ll just wait.”

His expression doesn’t change and he barely hesitates before suggesting, “you could kill me, right now, they wouldn’t be able to stop you and you would have enough time to take cover I imagine.”

She’s about to yell at him, but yelling would bring too much attention to them so she’s forced to keep her mouth shut and try to calm down. “It hasn’t come to that. I know this is horrible and I’m sorry I got us into this, but you’re jumping the gun just a little.”

“Am I? Or do you just not want to admit that nobody’s coming for us? Face it, Joy, this could be the only opportunity we have.”

He’s right. He’s right and she hates it. But she can’t let him be right because she’s not strong enough to do this. “Just...one more day, give them one more day, Sorrow,” she says after a pause, “please. If they don’t I’ll find a way to get us out, no matter what it takes, we’re not going to die here.”

Sorrow sighs and says, “alright. I trust you.”

She nods, her shoulders slumping in relief. Whatever happens, it has to be better than his plan.

  
  


                    5.

 

It’s a bright, foggy morning. The forest stirs from its slumber and the river that runs through it echoes for miles around.

“Boss, you have to _shoot me_ ,” he says as though it’s nothing to think twice about.

But it is, and she’s thinking about it a thousand times over. All of the resolve and determination she’s worked so hard to cultivate is failing her as her mind is flooded with memories of him. “I can’t,” she replies.

He shakes his head and says more sternly, “shoot me. You want to finish your mission, don’t you? Then...you’ll have to shoot me.”

There isn’t any way around it, she realizes, even as she tries so desperately to find one. This isn’t supposed to happen. She’s supposed to keep all of her boys safe, to protect them, to never hurt them, especially not Sorrow.

Except he’s not Sorrow anymore and she’s not Joy.

Boss doesn’t trust herself to form words so she just shakes her head, hoping he can hear her say _no, no, no I can’t do this, this is all I have left._

He understands and he smiles sadly. “The spirit of the warrior will always be with you.”

She wants to scream at him for pulling out his stupid cryptic bullshit at a time like this, but she realizes she can’t, not when these are her last words to him. That thought makes her eyes water.

“Don’t be sad,” he says when a tear rolls down her cheek, his stupid, beautiful smile never leaving his face, “we’ll meet again someday.”

If this drags on any longer she won’t be able to hold herself together. With shaking hands she takes aim, lets out a sob, and squeezes the trigger.

The sound of the shot lingers in the air for what feels like an eternity.

 

 


End file.
